Mage Hunt: The Report
Temple of the White Dragon - :Of all the holy ground that has ever been established in the Empire of Fastheld, the simplistic nature of the Temple of the White Dragon may well make it one of the most immaculate of them all. It consists of an inner and an outer chamber, with two thirds of the overall dimensions of the monument building belonging to the interior area. It is directly connected to Dawnstar Keep at the southern end, with a projecting "H" of columns forming the entrance in the middle of the eastern side. :The inner chamber of the temple is thirty meters long by twenty meters wide, with internal marble colonnades in two tiers, structurally necessary to support the roof. On the exterior, the columns measure two meters in diameter and are ten meters high. The corner columns are slightly larger in diameter. In total, the temple features forty-six outer pillars and nineteen inner pillars in total. The top step of the stepped platform upon which colonnades of the temple columns are placed has an upward curvature towards its center of three inches on the east and west ends, and of four inches on the sides. The roof is covered with large overlapping marble tiles. :Inside the temple, the arsenic-shade of stone is blanketed with golden-timber panels and beams, while the floor consists of black, reflective marble tiles. The contrast between black and gold is nothing if not spectacular. A vast stained-glass window, a semi-circle in shape, rests flush against the western wall, depicting a rising sun in an azure dawn over a landscape of emerald, jade, and viridian. Though most of the inner chamber remains as open hall space, various rooms surrounding the chamber provide areas for lodging and storage for the various Paladins and Clerics of the Order of the White Dragon to use as required. Training is often done in the separate area of the inner chamber, segregated from the mail hall of worship. :It is in that hall of worship that the temple's greatest artifact remains: set into the black marble floor of the main inner chamber, cast in radiant argentite, rests the insignia of the Order of the White Dragon - an abstract dragon, depicting the light as a creature that is less a living entity than a real force of nature. The collision of these two themes is at once both a testament to the True Light itself, and the dragoness who acts as an agent of the Light, Sara'tharalax. ---- It's a quiet night, if still on the cold side beyond the Temple's doors. But the Temple itself is pleasantly warm, the marble floors heated from below, and the area is always filled with the light of many lanterns and torches. That this should be so seems to require no invisible magic; Ordinators tend to them regularly as part of their daily devotions, and it would seem even the Canoness takes a turn. For so she is doing now, with a delicate glass lamp on a table, filling its lower globe with a clear lamp oil. Although she does not wear the typical regalia of an Ordinator, the woman entering the Temple appears to be on fairly familiar terms with those who tend the temple doors. She enters, stretching her neck casually as she does, and approaches the Canoness. However, seeing that she is preoccupied, Milora shuffles herself off to one side and waits. Ailith finishes filling her lamp, and returns it to its hook, before nodding to Milora. "It is good to see you, sister," she says. "It has been a week since you were sent; I was preparing to go out there after you. How fare you?" Inclining her head respectfully, Milora gives Ailith a brief smile. "Always a pleasure, Canoness. I am faring well for the time being. I come bearing news that I felt ought not to be sent by courier." Ailith smiles briefly, and indicates the pews. "I am afraid the Temple's seats are hard," she says. "But the taphouse may be more to your taste?" She tilts her head, the faint smile returning. "I am, to be honest, never certain how one should address the matter of secular and religious ranks. But as our business is ecclesiastic...'sister' seems proper enough. Where would be of comfort?" "Not a taphouse," Milora reflects. "They typically tempt me to drink to excess, which is to be avoided at this time. Furthermore, this information that I have to convey is also to be repeated comfortably only in a more private place." Gesturing towards the door, Milora grins. "I leave the decision to you." Ailith gives this some consideration. "The Suncrest manor seems an acceptable alternative," she decides. "Softer seats than the pews, and no drink to tempt you." She turns to another ordinator, giving a small nod and briefly touching fist to heart. "I will return. If urgent matters arise, go to the manor." Lowering her hand, she then turns to Milora with a small smile. "Let us go." ---- Parlor - :Furnished by warmer hues of burgundy and dark cherry wood, the parlor acts as an inviting respite from the cool splendor of the receiving hall for more intimate conversation. The hearth is kept alit across from the doorway and partners with silver sconces on the walls to the desired amount of light. Illuminated by these sconces are the faces of the remaining Mikin bloodline in superbly painted portraiture. :A lush rug of mudbear fur sprawls over the center of the chamber. A cherry wood tea table stands atop it. Positioned on either side of the table are two burgundy cushioned couches that have sloping, curved frames to accommodate the reclined form of the body, but no back. A cushioned chair of matching color perches near the hearth. :A window is carved from an outward bowing nook above the hearth. Often resting on its lower pane is a bundle of dried, fragrant herbs to be wafted about the room by any permitted breeze. ---- Frowning at the parlor, Milora gives a sigh and moves to seat herself on one of the burgundy sofas, although she will not sit until Ailith does. "I would prefer to call you Canoness, if it does not displease you very much." Ailith makes an incongruous figure in the warm setting of the manor's parlor, in her Ordinator's armor and circlet, and her Knightly cloak. It's rather like having one of the decorative suits of armor that is every manor's necessity come to life and walk about. But she seems to be used to that, at least, and takes a seat in the chair. "There is no reason it would displease me," she answers. "As in secular matters, it would be more proper to refer to you as 'your Grace' and I would not find this of concern to me. It is simply a difficulty inherent in moving within multiple spheres that I am still adapting to. My life until recently was entirely religious, you see." She shakes her head a bit, dismissive. "But perhaps not relevant to current matters. I have been concerned for you, with this matter of Lake. It is good to see you are well." "I do not care, frankly, what you call me," Milora says smilingly, resting her head on her hand and her elbow on the sofa's arm. "It is in my nature to forgive those in your situation their various lapses, because you have obviously not had as much exposure to our ways as most of the nobility. I apologize if that seems condescending; I do not mean it in that way." She gives a somewhat sheepish grin, and a half-shrug. "Did you ... that is, /do/ you know anything of my involvement with Kallyn Lake prior to this assignment?" Ailith shakes her head. "I am afraid the Imperial Cult, being as it is a fairly new and young gathering of those of faith, at present lacks much in the way of intelligence regarding its membership. We are from varying backgrounds, with varying reasons for wishing to serve, and quite different skills to offer. Part of my task has been to try and determine what a given Ordinator is best at." "I have never had a sister by blood," begins Milora, "but I have had a few women who I have considered sisters. I tell you this in confidence, obviously, when I tell you that two have been Freelanders; one is Kallyn Lake. She is also the only one of these three women to whom I still feel a close bond. She and I are similar in many ways; we differ, of course, on crucial points." She gives a small laugh, but leans forward slightly. "I tell you this because I want you to know how much I value the good of the many over my own personal attachments. Clearly, it would pain me to see Kallyn hurt; saying that, I also want it known that I feel that she is a danger to our innocent citizens and must be stopped by any means necessary. I would like to tell you what has passed between us." Ailith blinks at this, leaning back slightly in her chair - or perhaps sitting up straighter. In the armor it is a bit hard to tell. "I am most interested," she says firmly. "This matter of Kallyn has caused me great concern. Please; speak." "She has confessed to me that she intended to kill Meian Firelight during the event outlined in her dossier," the blonde says dryly. She speaks with some stiffness, looking Ailith unwaveringly in the eye and keeping her tone calm. "Her precise words were that she wanted to kill Mistress Firelight and that she told Lady Mikin that her intent was to prove a point; that was a lie." A tiny nod. "It is ... difficult, in what she said otherwise, to sort out what is the truth and what is a lie. I believe that she is good at heart; I also believe that she is capable of doing great harm. I believe that she knows that what she is doing is wrong; I also believe that she does not know why, and that she is unwilling to stop. It is an extraordinary case. I seek her permanent imprisonment, if I can not save her; at worst, her death. I ... have little hope for her salvation, speaking as someone who has known her throughout her transformation into what she is. I am afraid that I will fail; however, if so, the public will not be exposed to her longer than is necessary because of /me/." Her expression is cold and distant, but not emotionless. Ailith accepts this report with a greater solemnity than her years might indicate as normal, a gauntleted hand tap-tapping metal fingertips on the wooden arm of the chair as she frowns. "I assigned you to this case because the judgment of the previous Ordinator assigned to it was found to be in error," she says quietly. "It is my personal belief that this mage is, at best, at the mercy of her power - at worst, deliberately manipulating the hearts and minds of those charged with bringing her to justice. I am also aware that my *personal* beliefs are far more strict than what is given mandate under the current Law; for this reason I have preferred to set others to serve as counselors and judges in this matter. Tell me. What do you believe, and how strongly do you believe it?" "With regard to Kallyn Lake?" Milora smiles. "My beliefs are simple. I am fond of her; I hope that my affection is not based on folly. I firmly feel that she is not malicious or inclined towards evil; I feel just as strongly, however, that she is a wildly temperamental creature, given to such violent changes of mood that it appears to alter her entire mental composition. I am certain that it is within her ability to control herself, but I think that she has grown so attached to her power that she is unwilling to stifle it." Tap. Tap. Tap. Metal finger, tapping on wood as the Canoness considers the situation. "She has confessed an intent to kill," she says quietly. "I cannot but feel that this is a grave matter. However, it would also be the first trial and execution of a registered mage under the new laws, and as such I must verify my understanding with the Warpriest." Tap. Tap. Tap. "Do you have a residence in Light's Reach, by any chance?" "In case you have not noticed," Milora replies calmly, "I am not exactly taking this matter lightly." She frowns, nodding her agreement. "Whatever you decide to be best, with the guidance of the Warpriest, I will accept. I have no residence here, but accommodations can be sought if necessary." Ailith shakes her head. "I did not intend to imply that you were," she says. "Though Lake has proven flippant on the subject of her fate." The finger tapping stops. "This matter of confession will, I think, require attention regardless of the final decision. But that decision may well take some time to reach, as this may now - again - be a capital case. If our suspicions as to her volatility prove correct, then that delay poses a risk to the population - which I do not find tolerable." The young Canoness regards Milora thoughtfully. "You have gotten farther with her than any so far. Do you think you can persuade her to stay with you in Light's Reach for a time? I do not wish to make this a formal pronouncement, as if it *has* become a capital case then she may be...volatile. But if she can be saved, then the guidance of a friend, in separation from her powers, may show her the path she needs to follow. If you conclude that she may be able to be happy living in Light's Reach, that could be considered in her judgment as well." "She is not currently in Fastheld," Milora confesses, her brow knitting. "She has fled, presumably to the Wildlands, where she can perform magic unfettered. I am currently residing in her home there. When and if she returns, I will do as you have asked." Milora reclines, sighing. "She is so stupid. I /wish/ it hadn't come to this." Ailith shakes her head. "It may still not," she says. "This is the first such case. And we have Light's Reach, which is a new and perhaps welcome option. It will need to be discussed at the highest levels, I think, so that the proper precedent is set. In the meantime, however, she must still be observed as much as possible - and the people protected from her, if necessary. Are you able, willing, to undertake this task? I do not wish to unduly tax your relationship with her." "My first duty is to my husband," Milora says quietly, "and my second duty is to the kingdom. My personal affairs are always last and least. Because it appears that I am best suited to this task, I humbly and gratefully accept it and swear to complete it to the best of my ability. I consider its outcome a matter of course and consequence, whatever that means for me. Anyway, if these are to be the last of her days, I would like to spend them with her." There's a small smile. "It is late. I ought to go." Ailith smiles a somewhat softer smile, understanding. "I will endeavor to see the matter resolved quickly," she says. "It should not take too long to determine, at least, how much this confession and judgment will weigh against her fate. Please rest. And my thanks; you have handled this matter quite well." "I thank you." Milora stands and, incapable of bowing, rolls her head and shoulders forward before touching her fist to her heart. "Good night." With that, she takes her leave. Category:Logs